


There's something about it that brings me to life, I know all the consequences I don't mind

by lifeinecstasy



Series: KageHina Shit [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cocky Kageyama Tobio, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Masochism, Pain, Pining, Sexual Fantasy, Unholy Hinata Shoyo, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeinecstasy/pseuds/lifeinecstasy
Summary: “You’ve somehow turned into an instruction manual."Of course I am an instruction manual to Kageyama - he’s all I know besides volleyball..- They're in the middle of the match with Inarizaki High and Hinata can't focus*SPOILER ALERT - Season 4 Episode 19*Title from "Queen of the Night" by Hey Violet
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: KageHina Shit [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078289
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	There's something about it that brings me to life, I know all the consequences I don't mind

**Author's Note:**

> i realized i've been doing way too many of these from kags' pov so uWu

This is the only time I’ve seen Saeko-san without her mouth twitching in that devilish smirk that brings even Kageyama to his knees (seriously, Saeko reserves the power to make the weirdo spontaneously burst into a blush, and he doesn’t even bat an eye at the goddess Kiyoko-san). Saeko-san’s cheering team and strategy, both have upgraded with us as we advanced through matches, till here they are - beating the loud and impressive Japanese drums, perfectly harmonizing with the harsh beats of the opposing team instead of trying to drown them out. I’m not nervous, I’m pumped, I won’t give Saeko-san a chance to think her efforts were not up to par. 

Many players spin the ball between their fingers before shooting it off in a good serve - jump servers more than the floaters, but something about the way the ball’s snuggled between Kageyama’s fingers is so special I would gladly name this his signature move. The ball is whirling yellow and blue together, and Kageyama’s looking straight ahead, calculating where it’s going to land and what he would do when it did or in case it didn’t - every scenario playing out in his head in an ingenious reel. 

The clean whisk of the ball swooping into the air sounds and I know Kageyama’s proud of the serve even before he’s completed it. The King is single-minded and stubborn to the point that he wants everything to be perfect from the start, not to say he fails to save a lost game, but when it’s going well, it boosts him with a ferocity greater than any player I have known yet. 

The thought lingers in my head, going round and round and I see the ball bang into the court on the other end. I gasp, sweat trickling down my folded palms at the back of my neck, I had been too focussed on processing what happened in Kageyama’s head, I hadn’t fully seen the genius play. This is what makes me wish we had cameras slotted in our eyes, so I could capture this serve, everything from the preparation to the aftermath, and rewatch how completely awesome it was over and over. I could get to keep so much more of Kageyama if only my eyes could record him dammit. 

I’m floating through the air - one of the careless jumps I do so unlike the calculated spike leaps. This time it’s for how tall Kageyama looks right now, like he’s stretched with pride, power and skill. The orange doesn’t look bad on him at all as he allows us all a moment of celebration before flitting his bangs to the side and turning around, mouth set in an expression that screams superhuman focus. 

I frown, recognition sliding into my memory. 

“Is that the Calm Kageyama?” 

My eyes burn from how hard I’ve been staring at him. I don’t expect Tanaka-senpai to hear me, much less want to know what I was talking about. 

A deep breath and I can express my thoughts appropriately, I do this all the time. 

“It literally means, the calm Kageyama. It was the time when I was able to do quicks without closing my eyes, or when he got Tsukishima’s point of contact higher. It’s basically when he’s in the most tip-top shape.” 

I’m burning stares into him again, I’m bursting with a sense of accomplishment and all those moments Kageyama evolved right in front of me. My mind, given all the incitation it needed, soon begins trailing off on an endless tape - the hungry dinners after practice with both of us attacking the food rather than each other, the mornings after sleepovers when Kageyama always complained of the mattress I gave him yet refused to sleep in my bed or stop visiting, quiet grumpy walks when his sets didn’t fly that well and he won’t tell me why. I shut the damn thing off, and I should shut my mouth too. I’m saying too much, but I don’t stop. 

"He may look very calm on the outside, but he’s still very violent. So be very careful. He often gets into this state when he’s facing a strong opponent.” 

My senpai is uncomfortable, and if it had been anyone but Tanaka, they would have much more of a reaction than that single drop of sweat on his forehead, “You’ve somehow turned into an instruction manual."

Of course I am an instruction manual to Kageyama - he’s all I know besides volleyball, and sometimes the boundary between the two dissolves so completely that stuff spills everywhere and I can’t decide which one I love more. My cheeks are throbbing garnet, seeing Kageyama stretch out even taller after hearing the words “service ace” being flung around the crowd in awe and exasperation. I’m seething from the humiliating smirk he’s showing off, and glowing with pride that I had some part in it, however trivial. My mouth is itchy and dry and I want Kageyama to lick it with all that fiery confidence. I want him to clamp down on me, to slap my palms in jubilation and my cheeks because I suck. Green envy climbs up my back and I’m stooping in reverence because I want him to look down on me, I want him to scar me so bad, scratch me till I bleed so I can dig at the claw marks over and over until they open up again and remind me of what Kageyama felt like. I shiver with the vibrating whistle, the air is pricking with so much emotion - silver like the lining on the clouds outside. I clench my fists and my eyes and wait for another service ace, not covering the back of my head for the first time since he told me to “Watch your back” many months ago. The thought of Kageyama’s menacing face brings back the chills of excitement down my spine.

A few seconds later he’s not serving and before I can wonder if he’s chickening out, Noya-san’s bumping me off the court, bubbling with his senpai-pride for Kageyama. We’re making our way to the bench and I really need the water so I’m smirking - if Inarizaki thinks this is in any way going to break Kageyama, they are so wrong.

The devil’s cradling the air between his hands, summoning energy to the fingertips I want around my neck some day soon. He sees only the ball - all else is unnoticeable and unimportant. I could get close to his face right now, without his infamous piercing stare stopping me, but he’s so focussed on the ball he’d swat me away without a second thought. I’m listening to what coach is saying but the sight of Kageyama’s nose twitching with opportunity is very hard to look away from, and the thought of how easily I could kiss it won’t leave my head. 

A whistle and another ball plummeting to the opposite court; our score goes up again. He’s undiminishable, Kageyama Tobio - the monster setter, who can also do a hell of a serve. I gulp, rubbing the back of my neck when it feels so heated I think it might melt away. The third serve doesn’t go quite the same, but I’m sure it’s more the result of a lucky receive because Kageyama’s form never gets sloppy before at least 20 serves. Mine slips away within 5, and he always whacks me for it, a quick hit over the head that dishevels my hair and my mind so I have to stop and steel myself for a bit, or maybe that’s just because he moves in closer to reach me and I can smell that distinct sweat-laced midnight blue Kageyama smell. He’s so overwhelming I get a little bit disoriented every damn time. I realize my hands were nestled at the back of my head again, protecting it, apparently the competitive side of me got away from the day-dreamer after all. I was still a player on the court, I had to prove myself better than him, or at least worthy of spiking his tosses. I sighed, wishing the air could just soak my thoughts in, it was already saturated enough, my convoluted emotions won’t be that big of a burden. If only someone could carry them away and return them at the end of the match like a bag of belongings, I could focus a bit better. 

Kageyama’s not even serving anymore but that one serve succeeded in fixing the spotlight I had spent hours trying to dislocate right back on him - centered and bright as ever. I split in a trance, body moving on cultivated instinct as I jump and score, jump and miss, jump and forget to spike. I do it all without thinking because Bakayama is flooding all the slots in my brain, the real me is not on the court, he’s all within the damn brunette. 

He’s cold and he’s ice and he’s freezing everything over but I love the fire it lights in my belly every time my head goes numb where he’s clutching it. I complain for him to let go but my hands never move to protect myself because at least he’s touching me a fraction of the way I really want him to. Even if he’s not tugging my hair in bed, not tearing my skin with his teeth, not choking me with that ebony spiked collar - even if he’s just doing all that during practice out of anger at my incompetence, he’s still all I want. Now he’s dreaming beside me, rocking with the bus’s movement and baring his teeth at whoever he was fighting in his dream. His teeth could just completely sink in me if I begged him enough. I’m aching with anticipation, twisting in my seat. There’s an endless chant of “do me, do me, do me, do me” in my head and I can’t think straight even when I’m supposed to, I can’t think innocent too. Oh Sugamama, if only you knew what Kageyama did to me. There’s so much of him pent up like a stuffed cupboard in me, and I bang my head against the back of the seat in front. I want him. I will die if I don’t get him right now. 

I slap him awake, already positioning on his lap before his arms flail and he wakes confused as ever.

“Fuck me Kageyama, please hurt me so bad, I want you to just fucking destroy me it sucks like this.” I don’t regret my words as I say them, though maybe a bit when that cocky point of Kageyama’s eyebrows falters a bit. His expressions muddle, hand reaching out to my chest to push me away but grabbing it instead, and doing the very opposite. I’m pressed against him and breathing like a starved man, and he’s breathing the same. I smile, I’m surprised. 

“Am I still asleep boke?” He slurs, mouth opening slowly the way it does after you’ve been sleeping for long. 

“That depends on how often you have dreams that start like this,” I trail a hand down the zipper on his jacket, fluttering my fingertips over the hem, “and how far we go?” I give him a look I know he recognizes, it’s another challenge he’d never turn down. 

Kageyama smirks, “I’m not going to have mercy on you later.” He kisses my lips, the first time seeming like habit with how well we know each other’s movements. I know his hands are going in my hair where they belong the most, and he knows mine will ultimately rest on his arms.

I laugh, rocking my hips with the lurch of the bus, “I would hate you if you did.” Kageyama groans and a tiny voice speaks of the others on the bus but all I can see is the spotlight back on, yet this time, I’m in it with him.


End file.
